


A Friend Thing

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-09
Updated: 2004-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22861312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seamus doesn't like blokes, he just likes looking.
Relationships: Seamus Finnigan/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	A Friend Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Other pairings: Hermione/Ron, Seamus/Lavender

Seamus doesn’t like blokes. At least that’s what he tells himself every time he catches himself staring at Dean for too long. This is ridiculous, because Dean is his best friend and best friends look at each other and it doesn’t mean anything. He’s seen Ron doing the same to Harry, so obviously it’s a best friend thing, because Ron is dating Hermione. 

When he catches himself wondering what Dean’s lips taste like as he kisses Lavender that afternoon in the corner of the common room, he excuses it as nothing and brushes his thumb across her nipple. He looks past Lavender at Dean who is talking with Parvati, Ginny, and a couple of other fifth year girls, and feels a pang of jealousy when he catches Ron out of the corner of his eye doing the same to Harry while kissing Hermione. 

Seamus makes note of this and decides it really is a best friend thing, but decides he ought to talk to Ron later that evening before bed. 

A week and a half later, when he’s caught Ron dreamily tracing a picture of Harry with his finger he finally confronts him and calls him a “filthy shirt lifter” and storms out of the dormitory. Ron gapes after him for several minutes before jumping up and running after him. He finally corners Seamus in an empty classroom and demands to know what that was about. Seamus shrugs and mutters an apology and wanders off again. 

Christmas comes a month later and Seamus is stuck at Hogwarts for the first time ever over the holidays. He spends the entire time avoiding everyone, sulking and writing letters to Dean that he never sends. He doesn’t want to sound needy. 

He’s lost in thought when Ron walks up behind him, leans over his shoulder, reads the letter and whispers, “Who’s the queer, again?” before heading back to a table across the room to study with Harry and Hermione. Seamus watches out of the corner of his eye as Ron drapes himself all over Hermione like a needy child around a teddy bear. 

It takes every ounce of self-control for Seamus to attempt to hold back the snort that somehow still manages to escape despite his efforts, drawing attention from the trio. Harry and Hermione give him odd looks, their eyebrows raised questioningly, while Ron gives him a look that screams, “Say a word and your secret is out.” Seamus pretends to sneeze and mumbles a “’scuse me,” as he gathers his things and leaves the room. 

The next morning Seamus receives an owl from Dean asking how his holiday is going, and yammering on about this bird he necked with at a party Saturday night. He crumples the letter and tosses it aside only to catch Ron staring at him. He shoots Ron a glare before shovelling a forkful of eggs into his mouth, spending the rest of the meal in silence and watching his plate as though it were as interesting as the Quidditch World Cup finals. 

The next time Seamus catches Ron snogging Hermione in the common room, he walks up to him and taps him on the shoulder. When Ron turns around to ask him what his problem is Seamus presses his lips to Ron’s before turning bright red and running off. He hears a slap and then Ron and Hermione fighting as he climbs up the stairs, entirely shocked with himself. He doesn’t like blokes, but that doesn’t explain why he just kissed Ron. 

A half hour later Ron storms into the room, slamming and spelling the door shut. 

“What the bloody hell was that for, you flaming poofter?” 

Seamus just stares and blinks, unable to answer. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What kind of answer is that? First, you call me a filthy shirt lifter, then you write love letters to Dean, then you kiss me in front of – no interrupting me as I’m kissing my girlfriend and you don’t bloody know? What kind of shoddy explanation is that?”

Seamus doesn’t realize what’s going on until his palm connects with Ron’s cheek, his other hand roughly grasping a chunk of Ron’s hair as he pulls him into another kiss. Ron doesn’t try to pull away; rather he moans, closes his eyes and opens his mouth, sliding his tongue along Seamus’ lips. He clumsily walks them back the three steps to Seamus’ bed where they fall into an awkward heap, Ron’s bony, tall frame pressing into Seamus’ smaller frame in odd places. 

Out of breath, Seamus grunts and pushes Ron off him, leaving them both red lipped and slightly flushed as they struggle to regain composure. Ron gets up and is halfway back to his bed when Seamus jumps up and grabs his arm, pulling him back. 

“Sorry,” is all he mutters before pressing his lips to Ron’s again. They give up on talking, and on pretending they don’t want this as Seamus grinds against Ron, his tongue probing his mouth more eagerly than it ever had when he kissed Lavender. 

For the next two weeks as classes start back up, Ron and Seamus avoid looking each other in the eye, both pretending it hadn’t happened. Ron apologizes to Hermione, saying that Seamus had kissed him on a dare and it wouldn’t happen again. Seamus admits to himself that he likes blokes and stares unrepentantly at Dean every chance he gets.

Another two weeks pass and Seamus is witness to several fights between Ron and Hermione, the last of which includes Hermione shooting him a dirty look before proclaiming loudly that it is over. The entire common room goes silent and watches as Ron stands there gaping like a fish, following Hermione with his eyes as she exits the tower. 

When the initial shock wears off, Ron turns and spits at Seamus, “Thanks a lot for fucking things over for me, you bloody pillow biter.”

Seamus grasps Ron’s tie and kisses him hard before releasing him, “Takes one to know one.”

Disgusted, Ron stomps out of the room, not sparing anyone a second glance. 

Later that night, Seamus lies awake, staring up and listening to the sounds of Dean and Harry breathing, and Ron and Neville snoring. When one of the snores drops out, Seamus listens even more intently. When he realizes one person is entirely silent, his curiosity gets the best of him and he gets up to investigate. He stops at the foot of every bed, stopping at Ron’s last. 

No sounds come from Ron’s bed, so he draws back the curtains, peeking inside; what he sees astounds him. Ron laying flat on his back, his knees tilted so his feet rest in midair, his left hand fisting his cock. The semi-loose skin makes the task appear easier, more graceful, while his right hand cups his balls, his thumb brushing casually across his arsehole. His other thumb swipes across the head of his cock just before he comes, hissing Seamus’ name. 

Seamus gasps and Ron leaps up in bed, his hands and cock semen-sticky as a blush spreads through his body. 

“It’s not what you think,” Ron says, stammering as Seamus climbs into bed with him. “I-I’m not gay.”

Seamus snorts, and as he presses himself against Ron he says, “Of course you’re not. We can both not be gay together.”

Ron sighs and tries to pull away, but Seamus doesn’t let him. Seamus has not only come to the decision that he likes blokes, but that Ron does as well and presses his lips to Ron’s ignoring the sticky mess that is being smeared all over his pyjamas as Ron’s hands explore his body. 

“It’s not a friend thing,” Seamus says, and suddenly it seems Ron understands.


End file.
